


For you

by Nenko



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon through most S08E03, F/M, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenko/pseuds/Nenko
Summary: Jaime stayed with Brienne in Winterfell despite the threat looming from the South and the next inevitable war. Brienne has often wondered why but the answer seemed to be simple. She loved him and he loved her. When she finally accepted it, something strange started to happen, arising more and more questions Brienne didn’t want to find answers to.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister (minor), Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 30
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

Brienne stands with her back against the wall, Oathkeeper put down. She is not able to raise her sword any longer. She is so exhausted. As never before. 

Jaime is breathing hard beside her.

Their eyes meet and only then the impossible truth waves over Brienne. 

_They have won._

In a battle where their chances were almost non-existent.

They have won.

And they are alive. Pod. And Jaime. And her.

*

Not everyone is that lucky. 

Lady Sansa lost her sister and friend. Daenerys mourns after her knight.

The great pyres with all the fallen warriors are set on fire. 

No one says a word as their bodies disappear in flames and the acrid smoke envelopes them, making their eyes wet and the lungs burn.

Brienne feels Jaime’s hand on hers. He isn’t looking at her but the slight squeeze of his hand is all the reassurance she needs at that moment.

*

Then there is a feast. 

To celebrate their victory.

To celebrate life.

This is why she lets her inhibitions go. Or maybe it is Jaime’s hand on hers again.

And his smile and shining eyes. All directed at her.

*

When she finally feels free and accepted among their small group, everything goes wrong. 

The stupid question.

And the humiliation.

 _It is nothing to be ashamed of_ , she tells herself. Brienne is a highborn lady. Unmarried. It is expected of her to be a virgin.

There is no shame in it.

But the implication hangs heavily in the air. 

_Nobody has ever wanted her._

Three betrothals. All of them have been broken. 

And the man she loves would never reciprocate her feelings because he loves another.

*

Jaime finds her later in her room. 

A bit tipsy with a jug of wine and two cups.

He demands answers she doesn’t want to give.

The awkward conversation goes on. Brienne drinks another cup of wine, hears him admitting his jealousy, and watches him fumbling with the laces of his shirt. 

_It’s not happening_. 

This must be a dream.

Maybe this thought is the one that gives her the courage to take his shirt off and to make her own follow.

And then Jaime is kissing her. His lips are hot and insistent. 

He is kissing her like she is his air.

Brienne quickly catches up, her inexperience and insecurities quickly forgotten.

Not stopping their kisses, they make it to bed. Soon their clothes end up on the cold floor.

Jaime is lying on top of her, his forehead resting on hers. 

“Brienne?”

Just her name. The question.

“Yes,” the only answer. It’s enough for him as he slowly enters her. The feeling is strange and not pleasant at all. Then the quick strong thrust, the cutting pain, and Jaime is fully sheathed within her. A single tear that escapes her eye is immediately caught by his lips. 

Jaime is still above her, kissing away her pain and whispering words of apology into her ear. Soon enough the discomfort is replaced by the unfamiliar feeling of fullness.

And when he starts to move, Brienne feels something. Not pleasure but something more like a promise of it. 

Jaime moves faster, his breathing becomes laboured and soon, he falls on her with a hoarse groan.

But it’s fine. She is strong enough to hold him. Brienne tightens her embrace around him and listens as his heart and breathing calm down. 

He rolls off her and they both, drunk with wine and exhausted after the feast and… and _this_ , find their sleep. 

*

The next morning Brienne wakes up with a throbbing head and dull ache between her legs. Everything that happened the previous night feels like a distant dream.

Jaime’s right arm with a heavy golden hand lays over her, pulling her close to his chest. _Why is that monstrosity still attached to his wrist?_ Brienne can’t remember if she had forgotten to remove it in the fervour of their unexpected closeness or if she'd tried and he didn’t let her.

Not knowing exactly why it bothers her so much, slowly and carefully to not wake him, Brienne works with the straps of his golden hand and puts it on a nightstand with a quiet clung. 

The sight of his wrist makes her gasp. The skin is angry and red. She reaches to the nightstand again to retrieve a tiny pot with a salve which helped her greatly with the bruises and wounds she had got during her training and travels. 

Making sure Jaime is still asleep, Brienne gently applies the salve on his irritated skin. 

His breathing is still deep and even when she finishes. He looks so peaceful and Brienne can’t help a slight pang in her heart, knowing that the soft expression will be gone the moment he opens his eyes.

She gets up from the bed, trying not to look at a small brown dot on sheets. As quiet as possible, she puts her clothes on and leaves the room.

*

Brienne doesn’t see Jaime for the whole day. Everyone is recovering from the battle and the feast as well. But it doesn’t matter to her.

She needs to occupy herself somehow. To not think about _him_. To not think at all.

*

But then it’s evening again. She’s in her room when he knocks. 

And despite her better judgment, Brienne lets him in.

_Again._

This time there is a different tension between them, which she tries her best to ignore.

“Do you regret last night?” Jaime finally asks when she refuses to meet his eyes.

 _Does she?_

“No,” Brienne replies after a moment. Of course she wouldn’t regret the night with the man she loves, even if it was everything she would ever get from him. “Do you?”

The question somehow escapes despite her steel resolve not to ask it. Brienne holds her breath, preparing herself for the answer. 

“No, not the night with you.”

“If not the night, then what?”

Suddenly it’s Jaime who drops his gaze. If Brienne didn’t know any better, she’d think he’s embarrassed and ashamed.

 _But maybe he is_ , whispers this tiny voice in her head.

“The execution of the night was not…” 

Instead of finishing, Jaime gives her a meaningful look and makes a vague gesture with his left hand.

Then it hits Brienne. She was so stupid. She shouldn’t have asked. 

“I… I’m sorry,” she stumbles, her cheeks getting hot. “I know I’m not very experienced to… to make it good.”

“What?” The confusion overtakes the previous embarrassment on Jaime’s face. “That is not what I meant. I wanted to make it good for you and I know I failed.”

“You didn’t, Jaime. It was alright,” Brienne tries to sound sure and convincing. Making Jaime feel guilty for giving her the experience she has never expected to have is the last thing she wants to do.

“It shouldn’t be _alright_.” Jaime takes a step closer, his green eyes locked with hers. “I want you to feel as amazing and wonderful as I did while being with you. If you’d let me.”

And Brienne does.

His kisses are not as desperate as the previous night. They are slower, deeper, more passionate.

Everything is. 

Jaime removes her clothes one by one. And she does the same for him but when Brienne reaches for his golden hand, Jaime stops her abruptly.

“You don’t have to look at this. It’s unsightly but you already know that.”

“Yes, I saw it,” Brienne admits, reaching again for his hand. Her fingers stop on the straps. “It doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to wear it when you’re with me. Unless you want to.”

“Gods, no.”

Soon the golden hand is shoved on the nearest chair and they are free to continue their previous activity.

“Thank you,” Jaime whispers into her ear, leading her to the bed.

He explores her body without a hurry, with his hand and his mouth, lingering on her neck, her breasts, her cunt.

It is nothing like the night before. 

The pleasure of having him overwhelms all her senses. Again and again.

Sated and exhausted they fall asleep in each other's arms.

*

Life in Winterfell goes on. 

The preparations for the next war are in progress and the Dragon Queen is eager to take back what is hers.

Brienne goes around with her duties. With Jaime at her side. 

They start every day together, they break their fast together, they attend the councils together and do the work around the castle. Together.

 _Together_. For the first time in her life, Brienne learns what this word really means. 

They only part when she is with Sansa. The Lady of Winterfell still looks at Jaime with cold hostile eyes and sometimes Brienne feels the same gaze at herself. 

She knows Sansa is aware of their _relationship_. Everyone at Winterfell is. 

However, Sansa never speaks about it and when Brienne turns her head to meet her lady’s gaze, Sansa always looks in another direction.

*

Soon the army marches South. Jaime stays behind.

“It’s not my war anymore.”

*

Life goes on. 

Days are filled with hard work.

And nights with love.

Their room is filled with the soft orange glow and the crackling sounds of burning fire. They are lying under soft furs and enjoying the slowly fading effects of their blissful union when Jaime says these words for the first time. 

“I love you, Brienne, you know that, right?”

Brienne doesn’t _know_ that. In recent days she just _felt_ that way. Being loved by Jaime. Her more rational part scolded her for believing that and was coming up with all the reasonable arguments proving it wrong. But maybe this one time her heart wasn’t wrong.

“I love you too, Jaime,” she says, her voice a little more than a whisper. 

*

Days are passing. The air is filled with tension. Everyone is waiting for the news from the South. 

Sansa is worried more than everyone else, Brienne sees that even though her lady is doing her best to hide it.

Bran doesn’t tell them anything. If it is for the lack of knowledge or his unwillingness to share, no one can tell.

*

Finally, the expected raven comes but the news is not something they expected to hear.

The second dragon was taken down by Euron’s forces. As well as their fleet. And Daenerys’ friend was captured.

Brienne is in the courtyard with Sansa when Jaime finds them. 

Her lady gives her permission to tell the news.

“I always wanted to be there when they’ll execute your sister. Seems like I won’t get the chance,” Sansa says, her words filling the tense silence around them. 

Brienne doesn’t know how to interpret the look on Jaime’s face, nor does she have time to linger on it. 

She follows her lady, leaving Jaime behind.

* 

She finds Jaime that evening in their room, sitting in front of the fire with a brooding expression on his face.

He doesn’t greet her as usual. With a smile and a kiss. 

He doesn’t even notice her arrival. 

“Jaime?” Brienne says, not sure how to approach him. He was never like that during the time they have spent here together.

Jaime doesn’t respond and Brienne's heart falls. 

She goes with her usual routine, removes her armour, washes her face and hands. 

The knock sounds and their dinner is brought into their room. 

Jaime still hasn’t moved. It’s understandable he is upset. Cersei is his sister.

But Brienne doesn’t know what she is supposed to do. How to comfort him, how to ease his pain? 

“Jaime?” she tries again. 

She tentatively comes close and gently puts her hand on his shoulder.

It pulls Jaime out of any trance he has been in. 

“Brienne?” He looks up at her, his eyes wide open and vulnerable as she has never seen before.

Brienne wants to say something, but Jaime takes her hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Be with me tonight,” he whispers. 

At first, Brienne is not sure if those words weren’t just her imagination.

But Jaime stands up and kisses her.

Soon they find themself in bed. 

Their lovemaking is passionate as always but there is a desperate edge to it. Like the first time.

 _Or maybe it’s the last_ , the unwanted thought crosses Brienne’s mind as her back arches in pleasure. 

*

Brienne wakes up in an empty bed.

The fire is long gone and the room is filled with thick darkness.

She cannot see it but she knows Jaime is not here.

 _He has left_ , her heart clenches at the thought. Not thinking, Brienne finds the closest garment and puts it over her naked body. 

Then she leaves the room.

The corridors are cold and empty. There is no sound in the rooms she passes by. It must be the middle of the night. 

Brienne reaches the main courtyard but there is no one there as well. _I’m too late_ , she tells herself, not able to hold back a tear, streaming down her cheek.

The cold of the winter night freezes her to bones but it’s nothing compared to the ruthless truth cutting straight through her heart.

_He left me behind and went back. To her._

*

Brienne doesn’t know for how long she was standing in the empty courtyard. She should have returned to their room but the mere thought of being there alone again is too much for her.

So she walks instead.

Not remembering the way she ends up in godswood. 

Despite the darkest hour of the night, red leaves of the weirwoods are shining with the lightest subtle glow, 

“Gods, wench, what are you doing here at this hour?”

“Jaime?”

Brienne turns to see a dark cloaked figure. She can’t see the face but she knows without any doubt that this is him. 

Jaime steps towards her.

“Brienne, what are you doing here?” he asks again.

“I…” _thought that you left_. But she doesn’t say it. Her voice is shaky and her teeth are clattering from a cold. 

Without waiting for her answer, Jaime removes his cloak and in a swift move drapes it over her shoulders with Brienne’s hand coming to assist him.

“You’re freezing. Come here.”

She doesn’t have to be told twice. Leaning in, she can feel Jaime's hard body under the layers of clothes and imagine the warmth hidden underneath.

They are standing in a tight embrace, their heavy breathing is the only sound in the surrounding silence.

“What are you doing here, Jaime?” Brienne can’t keep this question any longer. She steps back a little to see his face.

“Having a nice stroll around the castle, but even without dreary northerners in sight, I hardly see any appeal.”

It’s not the answer she expected to receive but she finds herself nodding anyway.

“And what about you?”

“I woke up and you…” _You weren’t there_. 

Jaime lets out a deep breath.

“You thought I left you, didn’t you?”

 _She did_. There is no sense to deny it now so she nods again.

“I thought that after the news you might be willing to… to return.”

“Why in seven hells would I want to do that?” The disbelief in his voice sounds so genuine yet it’s hard for Brienne to believe that it has never crossed his mind.

“She’s your sister and you love her.”

“You’re right. She’s my sister, she’ll always be that. And I _did_ love her. But not anymore. Not the way you think.”

Brienne blinks trying to prevent new unwanted tears from falling from her eyes. _Why is she crying? He’s here. At least for now_.

“You thought I left you for her,” Jaime says again. It’s not the question anymore. Now it is a straightforward statement and she can hear a clear accusation in his tone.

“The bed was empty and you were nowhere to be seen and...” Brienne stops herself from saying anything further. She doesn’t want to appear more pathetic than she already does.

“And this was enough to make such a conclusion? Next time I suggest you bind me to the bed if you can’t learn to trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

Jaime snorts at that and faces away. 

“You _say_ you trust me. You _say_ you love me. You let me in your bed every night. And yet, you expect me to leave you and go back to her just as every other bloody northerner does.”

There is nothing to say in her defence without reminding him of how ugly and unlovable creature she is and implying that all those words of love he said to her were as good as lies.

“Jaime...”

“Kingslayer, remember? My sins are past forgiveness, is it not right, lady Brienne?”

“I don’t think that anymore. I said that before I knew the real you.”

“And what do you think is the real me?”

“The man of honour. Oathkeeper,” Brienne says without hesitation. He’s not Kingslayer anymore. He hasn’t really been for quite some time. Not to her.

Jaime lets out a bitter laugh.

“What about king slaying, laying with my sister, pushing a child from the window? I did all of it and never regretted anything. Do you want to say it’s not real?”

“No,” her answer comes before she even has time to calm down her spinning thoughts and feelings. “I know of it. I knew from the very beginning and you were the worst of men for that in my eyes. But then you lost your sword hand defending me and told me the truth about Mad King. You returned for me and jumped unarmed into a bear pit for me when you could be safe on your way back to her. Then you gave me the precious sword and sent for a quest to uphold our vow. You were the only one to believe in me. All those things are also real.”

“And yet it’s not enough for you to trust me. What should I do to earn that at last? I’m sorry I don’t have another sword hand to spare.”

Brienne closes her eyes. She can’t bear the look on his face as much as she can’t hold back the tears that are threatening to fall. She desperately tries to even her breathing.

When she opens her eyes, Jaime is still standing there, his gaze locked at the uncanny face carved in its white bark. He was the one who really saw her and now he refuses to spare her just one look. 

“I’m sorry, Jaime,” Brienne whispers in a strained voice. She needs to tell him. She needs him to understand. “I trust you. With everything, with my life. The last few weeks were like a dream for me that I never dared to even entertain. And after my experience I… I cannot let go of the fear that one day you will realize _who_ you are with.”

This finally grabs his attention. Jaime studies her with a sharp look.

“I know perfectly well who you are. Thickheaded, stubborn, annoying, good, loyal, gentle, caring, passionate wench with astonishing blue eyes.”

“I’m ugly and…”

“Does it only matter that you are not a beauty? What about the rest? Have you just ignored that or should I add deaf to the list of other things you are?”

“But I am,” Brienne insists, not entirely sure on what exactly.

“You are,” he agrees. “And I love you all the same.”

Despite hearing those words from him many times, Brienne still needs to learn how to accept them without questioning. 

“I love you too, Jaime.” She is also getting better at saying this in response. Every time she is equally amazed at how easily those simple words can make his whole face smile. 

“Then marry me.” 

“What?” Brienne blinks in confusion. It is not the best time for such jokes.

“I think you’ve heard.”

“I did but you can’t mean it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it’s _marriage._ ”

Jaime chuckles hearing that, making Brienne even more confused. Does he really want to marry her? If she says yes, then they will be married. A husband and wife. Does Jaime realize that or did he just say those words without any thinking?

“Yes, wench, I’m pretty much aware of what marriage is. And I know I want this. With you. Do you?”

“Yes, but...” the words are no more than a whisper but they make Jaime’s smile wider. He lunges forward and kisses her until she is breathless.

“So if we finally agree on this, then I suggest we better proceed. I would like to get to the bedding part tonight.”

“I’m not sure it is the proper time to hold a wedding,” Brienne tries to rationalize but is cut again by his kiss.

“Why postpone?” Jaime asks in a low voice. “The tree is right over here and my cloak is already on your shoulders. Shall we proceed, my lady?”


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Brienne wakes up in Jaime’s arms. After the night in godswood, it feels impossible to be warm again. 

Brienne turns to face him and she is met with a pair of green eyes, which are looking at her with the softest expression she could never quite figure out before.

“Good morning, wife,” Jaime smiles at her.

“Good morning, husband,” she replies. The word still feels strange on her tongue. _Husband_. And only then it strikes her for the first time that they are _really_ wed. 

They said their vows under the red leaves of weirwood tree. In chilling air among dancing snowflakes. A fairy tale.

“It’s time to get up. There are duties-”

Jaime snorts hearing that.

“If you are so diligent then you need to take care of your husband first, and let him finally perform _his_ marital duties.”

Formally their marriage is still not consummated. After returning to their chamber, they were too exhausted to do anything but reach the bed and fall asleep.

“I really need to go,” Brienne exhales as she lets him kiss her neck. Leaving the bed is the last thing she wants to do but neglecting her responsibilities isn’t something she looks forward to.

“Stop thinking. This one time Sansa can wait a bit for you,” Jaime says as his lips travel down through her collarbone toward her breast. His hand that somehow sneaked down between her legs finds her already hot and wanting. 

“Jaime…” she sighs when his fingers start stroking her.

“Did you say something, my love?”

The smug smile on his face quickly disappears under her passionate kisses.

*

Soon Brienne finds herself beside Sansa. Since the battle, her lady became more reserved and reticent. She is grieving for the two closest people she recently lost but for some reason, today this coldness unnerves Brienne more than usual.

Brienne takes a deep breath. She and Jaime decided it would be fair to inform Lady of Winterfell about their marriage. In fact, it was Brienne who insisted on it, and Jaime, despite his reluctance and distrust of a young Stark, relented after a while.

“Brienne, good that you're here,” Sansa says. “There is one important matter to discuss.”

*

Brienne doesn’t believe her ears when she learns what Sansa has to say. But the serious expression on her lady’s face is more than enough to convince anyone that she means every word.

“You cannot imprison him,” Brienne finally finds her voice after the first shock subsides. “Ser Jaime is not your enemy.”

“He’s a Lannister,” Sansa says as this fact alone is enough to prove anyone guilty of anything.

 _As am I_ , the thought crosses Brienne’s mind but she keeps herself from voicing it.

“Ser Jaime abandoned Kings Landing and came here to aid our cause. Now he chose to remain here instead of returning back.”

“What a great aid it was. One man with one hand,” a distaste is clear in Sansa’s voice. “A great aid indeed…”

“It only proves that he’s a man of honour.”

Sansa ignores this comment. She leans back in her chair, clearly immersed in her thoughts, as Brienne waits for the next orders or dismissal.

“Great aid…” Sansa whispers again and a strange fear slowly rises in Brienne’s heart.

She doesn’t like the direction of this conversation.

“Why did he remain here, Brienne?” Sansa asks after a while. “ _Why?_ ”

 _I came here for you,_ Jaime said one night but Brienne won’t tell this Sansa. This is only between her and Jaime. 

“I told you before, my lady. I know ser Jaime and I vouch for his honour. I’m certain of his good intentions. He has no ill will toward you and your house and I believe it would be unreasonable to use such drastic measures towards him.”

“And you want me to believe that all those words are not affected by your _association_ with ser Jaime?”

“These are the same words I was saying before anything of it happened. I trust ser Jaime with my life and if you value my service and trust me, you shouldn’t have doubts about him.”

Sansa gives her an appraising look.

“Alright,” she says after a moment of silence. “You are dismissed for today. And for ser Jaime… He can stay here as he was. I believe you and I won’t take any measures regarding his stay.”

 _For now,_ the implication lingers heavily in the air.

*

Brienne doesn’t say anything about this conversation to Jaime. She doesn’t want to upset him.

However, sometimes it seems to her that he sees the new tension between her and lady Sansa but he never says anything of it.

*

Days pass. Winterfell is gradually getting rebuilt.

The news from the South doesn't come.

Bran is silent as well.

*

Jaime and Brienne continue to live together. 

They are married after all, yet they don’t share this information with anyone.

“It’s not safe for you to be a Lannister in a bloody North,” Jaime insists every time the question of the announcement is raised.

“Is it safer to be viewed as a Kingslayer’s whore then?” 

Jaime sighs.

“They would have considered you one regardless of it being true or not,” he says without looking at her. 

_He has a right of it_ , Brienne steals a quick glance towards Oathkeeper.

“And Kingslayer’s wife has even less honour here,” Jaime adds with a sullen expression. 

“Why would you care for their opinion?”

“I do not in the slightest. Fuck them. It’s your safety I’m concerned about.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” Jaime comes to her from behind and kisses her neck. It’s not fair, he knows how strongly his lips can affect her. 

“We don’t need to keep it secret. I’m not ashamed of being your wife,” Brienne breathes, trying to escape his ministrations that are making her hot and needy for him. “Or are you?”

“To have a glorious knight as a wife? No. This is the happiness I do not deserve.”

He kisses her again and soon all Brienne can think of is the pleasure of being united with him.

*

They do not have this conversation again.

They do not tell anyone about the night in a godswood.

*

More days pass. 

The Winterfell almost looks as before the battle. However, with every brick put back into the walls, the tension in the air raises.

Jaime is uneasy about the situation in the South, Brienne can tell. She sees him less during the day. _It’s alright if he needs space._

They meet in the evening in their chamber. 

They make love as always.

But Brienne doesn’t ask anything when Jaime turns away from her as they fall asleep.

*

Sansa is worried. Brienne sees that even though her lady was distancing herself recently from her sworn knight.

Over two months have passed since the latest news.

Something must have happened, everyone feels that.

Yet silence is everything they have.

*

“They’ve been watching me,” Jaime says one evening. “Someone’s always following me everywhere. Like I’ve grown a bloody tail.”

He doesn’t look at her, facing the burning fire.

“I’m sorry, Jaime,” she replies not knowing any better words to offer him. 

“Throwing me to the dungeon would have spared lady Sansa any trouble concerning my location.”

Brienne sighs at that.

“She wanted to.”

“Yet, my noble wife came to my defence again.”

“I only spoke the truth.”

“Next time tell her that I’m not a valuable prisoner anyway. They won’t take me back.”

Brienne doesn’t respond. This is the first night she falls asleep alone.

*

Jaime is not there the next morning.

Eventually, Brienne finds him in godswood with Bran.

She does not interrupt whatever conversation they have.

She leaves without being noticed.

*

Something strange is happening. 

Jaime is still with her. He’s his usual self except for the time he’s in a brooding and self-depreciating mood but Brienne can sense something shifted inside him.

There is something in his eyes she cannot explain.

And lately, more and more often, Brienne wakes at night in an empty bed.

She doesn’t go to look after him.

Jaime mentions nothing of this and Brienne doesn’t ask.

*

One morning a general commotion wakes them. Lord Bran is nowhere to be found. As several of the northern men. The search is sent out immediately but the men return with nothing.

“Ah, lady Stark. If a boy without his legs could run from your grasp, then what are the chances for a handless man?” Jaime smirks toward their host only to be met with a deadly glare.

 _He knows something._ Brienne cannot tell why she thinks that but is more than certain there is something he’s hiding from her.

*

The news hit them like lightning. The battle for King’s Landing was lost. There was not even a battle. _A carnage._

Cersei Lannister demands they surrender and bow the knee to the rightful Queen of Seven Kingdoms.

Or die like traitors if they refuse.

*

Golden Company is coming. And they are closer than anyone has thought.

Several days of march at best.

*

The war council is a gloomy affair.

Everyone knows they stand no chances against twenty thousand experienced men.

Their main forces went with Jon, leaving Winterfell with a small garrison of elders and children.

Even if they could hold the walls, barely rebuilt after the battle, they won’t survive the siege.

Their supplies are running low right now, they won’t be able to feed people for a long time.

The best option would be to escape but nowhere is safe.

And there is no hope for anyone coming with aid.

They're on the losing side.

Everyone knows that. Yet...

“We will fight till the last breath. I won’t surrender to Cersei Lannister,” Sansa declares.

No one voices a disagreement. But Brienne sees the silent fear that resides in people’s eyes.

*

They try to prepare the best they can.

A few days later the infamous Golden Company arrives.

*

They do not attack.

From the walls, the defenders see that the enemy is not in a rush to get to the castle. 

_So it’s starvation then_ , Brienne thinks, wishing for a sword.

*

In the following days, there are several attacks on the castle but it is clear it is more like a warm-up before the real attack begins.

*

From the day the army arrived Jaime has been more distant than ever.

_Does he regret being here? Does he regret not going back when he still had a chance? Does he regret marrying me?_

Those thoughts occupy Brienne’s mind constantly but she fears confronting Jaime on that. She’s afraid of his answer.

*

The food in the castle is running low. Their warehouses are empty and all the routes from the castle are closed.

The rations are thrice smaller than they were and the number of meals decreases to one per day.

The served grey bland porridge becomes more and more watery with every passing day.

*

Something is different tonight when Brienne returns to their chambers after her watch.

Jaime hasn’t been so needy of her lately. They would fuck until they find release and fall asleep afterwards. It’s not like their passionate lovemaking from the time they got married.

It’s so different tonight and it puts Brienne off guard, making her suspicious and wary.

 _Jaime is my husband, I trust him_ , she has to repeat again and again as they tear off their clothes but the strange feeling doesn’t leave her.

Jaime kisses her hard, with teeth and tongue, his hand is wandering down her body, exploring all the sensitive spots he’s come to learn about her.

Brienne reciprocates, her own hands all over him.

 _Let me forget_ , her kisses beg him. _It’s only me and you._

Jaime seems to feel the same. He completely loses himself in her. Caressing, kissing, thrusting.

 _Jaime_ , she’s no longer sure if she voices her thoughts. _Jaime, please. I love you._

_I love you too._

_So much._

_Brienne._

_You and only you._

_My wench._

_My love._

He breathes with every thrust. His eyes so soft and vulnerable.

His whole body shudders as they come together.

*

Brienne is woken up by strange sounds coming from the corridor. The distant clunk of armour and muffled steps.

 _Jaime_ , she turns to his side of the bed to discover that it is empty. She looks around confused. 

_What is happening?_

Brienne quickly leaves the bed and puts her clothes on. She’s about to cross the room and reach for Oathkeeper when the door suddenly bursts open and five armed soldiers are coming inside.

Her heart sinks. These are not northerners. 

_Golden Company._

Inside Winterfell. 

And they are surrounding her in her own room.

“You go with us, whore,” one of them, seemingly commander, barks at her.

Brienne stands still. _She needs Oathkeeper now. And Jaime. Where is Jaime? Is he alive? And Sansa? What is happening?_

“Are you deaf? Do as you’re told or we’ll make you.”

The Oathkeeper is hung by the fire. Too far to reach.

And Brienne doesn’t have her armour on.

There are no chances for her to defeat them.

But she tries anyway and almost immediately is overpowered.

A fist comes to her face and heavy boots to her ribs. 

“You’re lucky we have to bring you alive, bitch,” someone says close to her ear as the others rope her hands and drag her outside the room.

There are no fights. _How did they get inside?_ Crossing the main courtyard, in flickering light of torches, Brienne sees a couple of bodies lying down in the snow. She tries to look closer to see if she recognizes them.

 _Where is Jaime_ , she keeps thinking, _and Sansa, and Pod?_

*

Brienne ends up in a dark cold and wet dungeon. Her eyes cannot adjust to the surrounding darkness. Brienne trembles from a cold. She didn’t manage to put on her warm cloak.

Seated against the wall, she tries to listen. Any sound that could indicate what is going on.

And where is Jaime?

He wasn’t in her bed that night. Where did he go? Did he manage to escape? Or did they ki… No, they couldn’t. Not Jaime.

Not her Jaime.

He lives. 

He must live. 

He must.

*

She has no idea how much time has passed. And she’s too cold and numb to care.

She doesn’t move when she hears the key in the door and feels someone's hands that are dragging her again. 

*

Brienne is in the main courtyard again. Her hands are still tied. She doesn’t raise her head, the morning sun too bright after the time she has spent underground. Lady Sansa is also there.

 _She’s alive_ , Brienne sighs with relief. Seemingly unharmed, her lady stands tall with her head raised and proud. Despite her hands behind her back and the paleness of her face which holds so much contrast to the bright red hair, Brienne cannot look at the young woman without awe.

It takes Brienne a while to notice that the soldiers are moving around in a hurry. They are leaving, there is no doubt about it.

Brienne looks around. _Where is Jaime?_ The question doesn’t leave her mind. _And Pod?_ They couldn’t… No, that’s impossible. They couldn’t…

*

Brienne and Sansa are seated on the same horse. Brienne feels the stung in her heart as the lady visibly flinches at the forced closeness to her sworn sword. The only little comfort is that they don’t have to face each other.

*

They are about to leave through the main gate when Brienne finally sees him.

Jaime is crossing the courtyard with Widow’s Wail at his hip. He is not tied.

_He’s not a prisoner._

In her confusion, Brienne cannot turn away her gaze from him. Jaime comes to a group of Golden Company soldiers mixed with Lannisters. They quickly exchange a few words but Brienne is not able to hear. 

_What’s going on? Jaime,_ she begs him silently.

Then, as he could hear her silent call, his head turns in her direction and his eyes lock with hers. It is not the look Brienne is used to see on his face. This one is full of coldness and contempt. Jaime has never looked at her that way. Even when he was nothing but a Kingslayer to her.

“Jaime?” Brienne can’t stop herself from uttering his name. Her voice is weak and trembling from disuse but she needs him to hear her. _Jaime, what’s going on? Please, tell me it’s not… Jaime…_

He turns away.

“Let’s move,” he says loudly to the soldiers. “The Queen is waiting to serve her justice.”


	3. Chapter 3

The road is wearying and long, however not as dreadful as her first journey as a captive. There is no beating, no torment, no torture. 

Yet for Brienne, this feels more like an agony than the whole time spent with Brave companions and Vargo Hoat. 

_Jaime,_ the name is like a knife in her guts.

 _Not Jaime, the Kingslayer,_ whispers a tiny voice in her head as she falls asleep on the hard cold ground.

*

Every day Brienne is seated on one horse together with Sansa.

And every day the young lady flinches at their forced closeness.

*

Sometimes Brienne overhears the conversations between the soldiers. 

They confirm the truth she’s already known.

It was Jaime who opened the gate and let the Golden Company in.

_Not Jaime, the Kingslayer._

There is no Jaime anymore.

*

He is nowhere to be seen. Not that Brienne wants to see him. She doesn’t. 

*

The bread prisoners are given is hard and stale. Brienne makes herself chew it but it sticks in her throat. 

Every day she forces herself to eat. Not for herself. She has already died that day in Winterfell. But the others...

Lady Sansa is sitting near to her, facing away from Brienne. _She never looks at her_. _Not once._ Since they left Winterfell. 

“Lady Sansa,” Brienne whispers so soldiers cannot overhear. She’s concerned about the young woman who became pale and thin. Her hands tremble, from cold or from exhaustion, Brienne cannot tell. 

Sansa ignores her.

Brienne doesn’t try to reach her again.

*

Today it is raining. The first sign of retreating winter. Horses are struggling in the mud. Their pace slows down. 

Brienne’s clothes soak in mere minutes. 

She keeps her head down, trying to occupy her mind with counting drops falling down from the stands of her hair.

The Kings Landing is getting closer. She recognises this land.

She doesn’t want to think about what awaits them there. 

How she has failed again.

*

Everyone is relieved when they stop for camp this evening. The fire has never been more welcoming.

Brienne is chilled to her bones but her discomfort is nothing. Not when lady Sansa is so clearly exhausted. Despite being so close to the fire, her whole body is shuddering and her breathing heavy and laboured. 

_She’s in fever,_ Brienne realizes.

“My lady,” she whispers.

Sansa hears that. Brienne is sure about this from the way her lady’s brows have furrowed but she doesn’t open her eyes to acknowledge her sworn sword.

“My lady, you’re fevered, you need to drink more,” Brienne tries again holding out her waterskin. “Please, my lady.”

Sansa turns her back to Brienne.

*

Hours later their fire is ceasing. There is nothing around to keep it going. Brienne is surprised that they were allowed to have it in the first place until she remembers that the Queen wants them alive.

It must be hours before dawn. The darkest and the coldest time of the night. Half-dry clothes don’t protect from freezing air.

Brienne can’t find her sleep. She has given up on trying to find some rest. She just harder clenches her jaws to prevent her teeth from clattering and disturbing the uneasy sleep of others. Especially lady Sansa.

Suddenly her attention snaps at the sound of someone’s steps. It should be nothing unusual, guards and patrols are crossing the camp quite often. 

These steps, however, are different. Quiet and stealthy. It sounds like someone who doesn’t want to be caught by the soldiers. 

Brienne stills.

They are moving in her direction.

Soon she catches the glimpse of a dark silhouette of a man.

It looks familiar. She knows him.

A man stops for a moment, assessing his surroundings.

And then he’s right next to her.

“My lady?”

“Pod? What are you doing here?”

“I brought covers. For you and lady Sansa.”

“How did you manage to free yourself?”

“I’m not a strict prisoner like you. The Westerners took me with them as a servant. I’m also from the West as you may know… I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I’m being watched almost all the time.”

They talk in low quiet voices as Pod passes her the covers. These are solid and thick, just from touching them Brienne can imagine the warmth of being wrapped in them. 

But then something else hits her.

“Where did you get them, Pod?” In those circumstances, such covers are definitely not a spare good.

“It doesn’t matter. You need them more.”

“He has sent you.” It’s not a question, Brienne already knows the answer and all she can feel is a piercing cold that no amount of fire and blankets could chase away.

“Take them back,” she says as Pod remains quiet. “I don’t want anything from him.”

“Ser, please. I don’t want you to freeze here.”

“So I could be delivered to Kings Landing and die there?” She’s being unfair to Pod, Brienne knows that. But she can’t… she just can’t…

“Not everything is the way it…”

The coming guards interrupt anything Pod was going to say. He quietly leaves without uttering another word.

The unfortunate covers are left on the ground.

*

Brienne doesn’t want them. She doesn’t want anything from him. 

Not anymore.

Yet the covers are still here.

Brienne picks them up and makes the only thing that comes to her mind.

*

Lady Sansa doesn’t say anything when she wakes up. At least she looks a bit better than the previous evening. 

*

Brienne doesn’t see Pod anymore. She only hopes it doesn’t mean that he got into trouble because of her.

*

They almost reach Kings Landing when Brienne sees _him_ again. 

The Kingslayer is talking with the others. He doesn’t look in her direction but Brienne can see his face.

It’s smug and arrogant. And yet distant somehow. His eyes... Brienne turns her head away. She hates the fact that she can read his face so easily.

 _Of course, you can’t,_ she needs to remind herself. _He wished to be with Cersei all the time and I foolishly had thought it was for me, the great beast of a woman._

*

It’s their last camp between arriving. Nobody told them that but Brienne knows it nevertheless. 

No one bothers to light a fire. They will survive one night without it. 

And why waste firewood for people soon are meant to die anyway?

*

“I hope it was worth it.”

Brienne turns her head in surprise. Those are the first words spoken by Sansa from the moment they were taken from Winterfell.

“What do you mean, my lady?”

“Being fucked by the Kingslayer. Was it not what you longed for? I hope it was worth it.” 

The crude words feel like a slap on her cheek. Sansa has never spoken to her like that. Brienne lowers her head. There is nothing she can say in her defence.

But Sansa doesn’t need any response to continue.

“I’ve always known you had a weak spot for him. It was hard not to notice the way you touched this stupid sword or flush at the mention of his name… When you have vouched for him, I knew it was something deeper. And against my better judgment, I let him stay… I hoped that it wouldn’t matter when the dead arrive. That he’ll die and won’t be my concern any longer because what can one man with one hand do against the army of the dead?”

Words that have been gathering behind Sansa’s silence and indifference now are flowing like water.

“What a brilliant scheme it was! Send one handless man and nobody would see him as a serious threat. What can one man do?” Sansa lets out a bitter laugh. “I should have seen that coming but the words coming from my devoted and loyal sworn sword blinded me. How could I listen to a woman so obviously in love with him? I should have wondered why Kingslayer wanted to stay behind instead of returning. Did he really cut the ties from his sister after years of blind devotion?”

Listening to this, Brienne has never felt more stupid in her life. It was _her_ who should have asked these questions then. 

She didn’t.

She trusted him.

She loved him.

And she believed him. When he was kissing her and touching her. When he said he loved her. When he _married_ her.

 _How stupid she was_.

He insisted on keeping their marriage secret.

He was distant and upset.

He was spending nights somewhere else.

What a man like him was looking for with someone like her?

It is so blatantly clear now. How easy it must have been to manipulate a pathetic creature by giving her the illusion of affection and love she yearned so much for?

“I’m sorry, my lady,” Brienne whispers in a choked voice. “If I could do anything to…”

“You already did enough,” Sansa cuts her off. “I release you from any vow you might think that binds you to me. I’ve had enough failures in my life.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am always so happy to hear from you! Let me know what you think =)


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